


What Lines We Will Cross

by Eliyes



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s04e09 Miller's Crossing, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 12:45:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1779592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliyes/pseuds/Eliyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John returns to Atlantis and thinks of what to tell Sam, and Rodney, about what he did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Lines We Will Cross

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place before the final scene of SGA 4x09. Spoilers for that episode, obviously.
> 
> This story was originally posted on Livejournal December 12, 2007.

John and Ronon returned to Atlantis in the city's early morning. Teyla was waiting for them on the steps up from the 'gate, and they could tell by her expression that she hadn't gotten word about her people while they were gone.

"Doctor McKay --?" she asked as the wormhole closed.

"He stayed behind," Ronon rumbled. John smiled faintly, hiking the strap of his bag higher on his shoulder.

"He's just spending some time with his family now that Jeannie's safe," he assured her.

"I need some sleep," Ronon announced. Teyla took a deep breath.

"I believe I, too, shall go rest. It was a... very _long_ night."

"You do that," John said, clapping his hand on her arm briefly. Ronon gently elbowed him, lifting his eyebrows pointedly.

"Oh, I'm just gonna make sure the prisoner got put away with no problems, and then I'll be able to sleep."

Ronon nodded and moved away, but Teyla looked at John for a moment longer. He deliberately didn't tense, and after a moment, she closed her eyes and nodded.

"I will see you later, John. Rest well."

"Thanks, you too."

He stowed his acquisitions from Earth -- the new suit as well as a stash of candy and a bunch of comic back issues he'd bought on a whim with vague hopes of finally getting Ronon and Teyla to _get_ the superhero thing -- and then tracked down Lorne. They had a serious discussion about the Wraith prisoner, deciding what number they needed to increase his guard detail to, now that he'd fed. John was too tired to brainstorm a yet-more-secure restraint system, but they both agreed he was probably strong enough to break out of the one they'd been using, now.

He swung by the containment cell, but didn't stop to chat, just pausing to look from the doorway. The Wraith met his eyes, and he left, wondering how much the men had heard, and what he'd have to deal with when they did.

He doubted anyone would have guessed that he, of _all_ people, could turn someone over to the Wraith. Hell, he wouldn't even be in a command position in Atlantis if he hadn't shot Sumner when that first Wraith Queen was feeding on the poor bastard. Not to mention, _he'd_ been fed on himself by the very Wraith in that cell.

Some of them would probably worry he'd been compromised, but the smarter once would hopefully keep them in line...

He prowled aimlessly through the inhabited sections of the city, checking that everything seemed okay. He was too restless to try to sleep just yet, even though he'd hardly slept since they'd left for Earth.

He was going to have to tell Carter what wasn't on the report. Wasn't he? Maybe he could wait to see if she asked, he thought as he meandered through the main infirmary. She _was_ a genius, after all, and it's not like it would be hard to read between the lines. If she didn't seem to be blaming herself for the Wraith she OKed to be sent getting loose long enough to kill the guy who kidnapped Jeannie and Rodney -- if she didn't ask, then he wasn't going to tell her.

That decided, John finally went to bed.

Six hours of blissfully uninterrupted sleep later, his empty stomach woke him up. He blinked at his watch, calculating how much longer it would be until Rodney was back. He had a few hours, so he grabbed a quick shower and then headed to the mess he knew served supper a little later.

He was halfway through a second serving of the sweet-potato-like mashed ptaki root -- he hadn't eaten much more than junk food on Earth -- when Samantha Carter set her tray down across from him.

He nodded, but waited until he could swallow to greet her verbally. (Ptaki was pale green and did not look particularly appealing inside a person's mouth, and he wasn't nearly as skilled as Rodney was at talking with his mouth full _without_ showing off his dinner.

"Colonel," he said when he could.

She nodded back, cutting her food into bite-sized chunks. John got the sinking feeling that his whole 'not talking about it' plan wasn't going to fly.

"How were things here while we were gone?" he asked, hoping to stall a little. Now it was her turn to make a face indicating she'd answer when she wasn't chewing.

"Quiet, for the most part," she said, "other than the security measures involved with moving the Wraith prisoner." She cocked an eyebrow at him. "How did you manage to convince the SGC to allow that? I was a little surprised."

John shrugged.

"It helped that the NID were feeling bad for not finding them before Jeannie was given the injection, I think. Not to mention losing McKay. Plus, everyone there who'd already met Jeannie seemed to have a favorable impression."

Carter smiled.

"She seems pretty easy to get along with."

"Well, _I_ think so," he said mildly. "Teyla and Ronon like her, too. So does Zelenka." So did Elizabeth and Carson, he added mentally. He concentrated on corralling the last of his food into a corner of the tray so he could scoop it all up at once.

"How was her family taking it?"

"Well, Madison's only five. Cute kid, by the way. They weren't telling her what was going on. I didn't really talk to Kaleb, McKay did. He seemed upset, but he was focusing on keeping Madison from worrying, I think."

She nodded. John didn't let on that Ronon, who had _very_ good hearing, had told him what Kaleb had said. 'This is your fault, Rodney.' John could understand why he'd see it that way, but it was a good thing Kaleb had been out of punching range when John found out. Bad enough Rodney blamed himself --

"McKay handled things pretty well," he commented casually.

Carter gave him a disbelieving look.

"He got _himself_ kidnapped!"

"I meant _before_ that, with the whole dealing thing," John elaborated, trying hard not to sound like he thought his superiour officer was an idiot. He didn't have a lot of practice with that, but he actually liked Carter. It was just that she wasn't completely over her issue with McKay -- and considering how Rodney was a little creepy about her, he could see why, but it still bugged him.

"I'm sorry," she said, and John couldn't help but give her a surprised look. She smiled. "You're his team leader, and his friend, and you were there, and I wasn't. It's just, I'd think he'd be better at avoiding people kidnapping him for his brain by now."

John snorted.

"Yeah, well, if he'd _waited_ for us instead of going in with just the one agent -- and why didn't the Canadian CIA guys send back-up along, I'd like to know."

"You mean CSIS?"

"Yeah. Them."

"Did McKay let them know what he'd found?"

" _I_ don't know." By this point, John had mashed into a flat patty the now unappetizingly cold spoonful of ptaki.

"Neither do I," Carter said, "I read in the report that they grabbed McKay when the NID agent was starting back to the car for another gun?"

"Yeah, he said McKay asked for one. I guess Canadian citizens really _don't_ go armed normally."

"Hmm." She chewed thoughtfully. John could practically see her deciding what to ask next. He didn't particularly want to go over it all in a mess hall.

"You'd have to ask McKay, though. He was too busy to really question, after we rescued them, but I'm sure he could tell you at the debriefing."

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, and John thought, _A-ha_. He leaned back.

"Debriefing?"

"Sure," he said easily, hooking one arm over the back of his chair. "We were on an off-world mission."

"Earth isn't --" she began with a little laugh, but stopped there. John just looked at her, thinking, _Earth isn't Atlantis_. She was good, but she hadn't _got_ that yet.

Carter sighed and picked up her jello.

"You're right." She stabbed the quivering blue dessert with her spoon. "I should probably order McKay to talk to the psychiatrist..." She trailed off, possibly realising that the new shrink -- while seemingly a nice enough sort -- was unnerving in his own way, for patients who were still grieving Heightmeyer.

"Don't worry about that, I can see to it," he offered.

"Thanks." She flashed him a quick smile. "What about you?"

He gave her a quizzical look.

"You going to talk to him, or am I going to have to give _that_ order?"

 _Crap._ John gave her a tight, uncomfortable smile. He'd be willing to bet that she'd check, too. Elizabeth sure had. There was probably a note in his personnel file, at this point.

"No, no orders necessary."

"Good." She straightened slightly. "You're off-duty the rest of the day, of course. We're expecting a few gate teams to return tomorrow, and hopefully they'll have word on the Athosians. I'll have your debriefing scheduled once McKay gets back."

"Sounds good," he said, just as Carter's watch beeped. He watched her wolf some more jello, and then she stood.

"Gotta go."

A glance at his own watch told him Teyla would probably be mediating, and he wouldn't be at all surprised if Ronon was beating up some of the men -- it had been a frustrating visit to Earth, for him. He went back to quarters with vague plans to read some comics, and wondered if she was going to ask later.

He was actually less concerned about that than he was about Rodney. He _knew_ Rodney was going to ask, although hopefully he wouldn't bring it up at the debriefing, since he knew what the report said.

It was just that there were so _many_ reasons he couldn't let Rodney sacrifice himself, and he didn't want to talk about _any_ of them. Atlantis _needed_ Dr. McKay, super-genius. He was responsible for saving the city, and everyone in it, again and again. They depending on Rodney's brilliance, and he knew it, and said so himself -- but if John gave that reason now, it wouldn't sound right, however true.

Still, it was a better choice than some others... The fact was, John was _also_ responsible for the lives of everyone on this expedition, and Jeannie Miller's was _not_ one of those lives. He was pretty sure Rodney would never talk to him again if he said that, and John wouldn't blame him one bit.

John understood why Rodney had been willing to die if it meant Jeannie might have a better chance, because it was the reason he'd do the same for Rodney. They were family. They were _team_. John was team leader, and that meant it was _his_ job to protect Rodney -- just like Rodney was Jeannie's big brother. The parallels were obvious.

But he liked Jeannie, and even if he hadn't, he knew that if she had died, Rodney would blame himself for the rest of his life, just like he blamed himself for Gall, Abrams, Dumais, Grodin, Collins, Lindstrom, Griffen, and all those others. But this time, it might _break_ him. It would have _destroyed_ Kaleb -- it would have orphaned bright little Madison. So John couldn't let Rodney die, that was a given, but he couldn't let Jeannie die, either.

He'd tried to shoulder his fair share of the blame, but Rodney wouldn't let him, and now...

Well, now Jeannie was alive, and so was Rodney, and the guy who'd kidnapped them both and injected her with the nanites wasn't. John was okay with that, given the alternatives. Wallace probably would have killed himself anyway, in whatever top secret prison they could put people who knew about the Stargate program. He had willingly thrown away everything he had to save his daughter, and she had died anyway. At least this way, he was able to make some restitution in regards to Jeannie. He had wanted that. John had known that.

It still made him a little sick, but mostly because he didn't regret it the way he probably should. It wasn't a new feeling, really, but he had meant it when he'd told Teyla he would do _anything_ for the family he had found here.

He stretched out on his bed and tried to think of what he could tell Rodney that wouldn't mean explaining things he didn't think he could explain, and that wouldn't make Rodney feel any guiltier than he already did.

_I presented the situation..._


End file.
